A Pointless Little Naked Obi Wan Story
by Syntyche
Summary: Um... more detailed description inside ...
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **A Pointless Little Naked Obi Wan Story

**Author**: Syntyche

**Rating**: Just T, unfortunately

**Legal:** Not mine, but delicious anyway.

**Reviews:** Adored and cherished. Please do it!

**Summary:** The title is pretty self-explanatory.

**Author's Note: **This really short two-parter came about after I read a review left by charie for part four of _A Not Pointless Little Hurt/Comfort Fic_, the first bit of which said simply: 'Hm. Naked Obi-Wan. I like…' and I thought, 'hm, I like that, too! I think my next fic will be "A Pointless Little Naked Obi-Wan Fic" and I wonder if anyone would read it?'

So I thought I'd find out. And I wrote the entire thing in fifteen minutes, so … yeah. It may be bad. I figured I'd post the first half, and if anyone actually wants to read the second half, I'll post it Friday.

See? I'm not kidding when I say comments and reviews feed the Muse. And here's proof.

**OoOoOoOoOo**

**A Pointless Little Naked Obi-Wan Story**

By: Syntyche, who is not as embarrassed as she maybe should be, and probably will be tomorrow.

**Part One**

General Obi-Wan Kenobi stretched slowly, his blue-grey eyes closing reflexively at the simple luxury of arching his aching back and straining to extend his arms until the corded muscle in his forearms felt taunt and his slender fingers spread in exquisite relief.

Force, he'd been so … _restricted_ lately.

Gone were the afternoons of saber practice in the Temple's training halls, and lazy evenings spent curled in his favorite chair – Qui-Gon's old, worn-down lounger – with a history text or something or other. Gone were mornings spent meditating in the Room of a Thousand Fountains and visits to the crèche to play with the younglings.

All of those things Obi-Wan had loved had been replaced swiftly by ration bars and base camps, hurried orders and days spent waiting in the rain and snow, or beneath a merciless sun that seemed determined to burn him to a well-done crisp. Not that Obi-Wan would complain and he certainly didn't. It was simply the way things were.

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had been replaced by General Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Negotiator.

He couldn't say he liked the change, but he accepted it with his innate practicality and had gone to war as ordered. That had been three years ago.

Three long years of hardening himself against endless fighting, against the slaughter that accompanied what some had dubbed the "Clone Wars," three years he and his Padawan had begun daily sacrificing self and sometimes sanity for the Greater Cause, with no respite in sight.

It was actually a surprise to him that he and Anakin had been called back to Coruscant; if Chancellor Palpatine hadn't been captured by Grievous, the two Jedi would still be far afield. Anakin had certainly earned his time in the spotlight, rescuing not only the Chancellor, but Obi-Wan as well after the Jedi master had a set of stairs dropped on him.

There had been something odd about that fight – he and Anakin should have been able to take Dooku and his battle droids – but some unknown interference had crowded in; Obi-Wan knew that Dooku alone didn't have the strength to fend off Anakin while simultaneously lifting _**and then **_throwing _**and then**_ pulling a landing down onto Obi-Wan.

Where the interference had come from was what puzzled Obi-Wan as he stood in the shower of his quarters, still fully clad right down to his boots. He'd left Anakin to the waiting press and politicians – he hadn't been teasing when he'd told Anakin that he had earned it; although Obi-Wan had been referring less to Anakin's rather spectacular rescue and more to the bone-jarring shock of Obi-Wan realizing the shields of Grievous' flagship were still _**up**_ – and the Jedi Master had returned to his quarters with the intent of resting for just a short while before making his report to the Council.

Once he'd arrived in his quarters, however, Obi-Wan had realized that he was actually too filthy to consider going near his long-unused bed, and in fact too grimy, really, to even sit on his couch. A shower was in order, he decided, and he'd actually made it as far as the fresher before weariness had overcome him and now he leaned forward, hands braced against the shower wall and his head down, ginger hair spilling into his eyes as he tried to summon up the energy to undress and proceed with his shower.

After a moment, he shrugged off his long robe and it dropped to his feet, small clouds of dust rising up from the crumpled brown fabric to cling to the shiny mahogany of his knee-high boots. His belt soon followed, landing atop his robe with a soft _thunk_. Obi-Wan watched it fall idly, resting his head wearily on his forearm, inhaling the scent of mingled sweat and dirt that saturated his clothing and skin.

_All right, enough stalling._

Slim hands fumbled and he managed to pull off his over tunic followed by under tunic as he again relished the beautiful agony of stretching his tense muscles. His body was no longer that of a young and eager Padawan, and General Kenobi was finding that it took a little longer these days to recover from the physical toll that the war was leeching out of him. Months of rations, fitful sleep only when he could catch a moment, and day after day in the field had burned every spare ounce from his lean body, leaving finely sculpted muscles as well as a multitude of new scars that joined the others he'd earned over the years.

_Almost there,_ he thought, eyeing the pile of grimy clothes with some amusement. _Boots, trousers and shorts to go … _

**OoOoOoOoOo**

Well? Anyone interested in the second half? It involves no plot, but gratuitous and loving descriptions of unclothed Revenge of the Sith Obi-Wan. And I kept it T-rated, so it's not too bad. :)


	2. Chapter 2

bestofewan .com has some beautiful pics on the Great Pics page of dirty Ewan that were the inspiration for this fic. Check them out!

**OoOoOoOoOo**

**A Pointless Little Naked Obi-Wan Story**

By: Syntyche

**Part Two**

He couldn't believe how filthy he was.

_General Kenobi, you are a dirty, dirty Jedi,_ he thought with some amusement. Obi-Wan pulled off his boots, tossing them over near the sink, and swiftly stripped out of his remaining clothing, adding it to the pile already discarded on the shower floor – if _**he**_ needed a shower this badly, how much more so did his abandoned clothing? He may as well just leave them where they sat. He plucked his belt from the pile and tossed it toward the sink; everything else stayed where it was.

Obi-Wan sighed and closed his eyes, willing himself to relax. It was difficult to do after so much time spent watching his back, watching out for Anakin, watching out for _**everyone**_ who crossed his path. The chill against his bare flesh contributed heavily to his uneasy feeling of exposure, but if he wasn't safe here in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, well, where else was?

His right hand twitched reflexively, long fingers fumbling for the water controls. If he didn't start the shower soon, he'd fall asleep where he stood, or Anakin would come barging in awkwardly with some news he felt Obi-Wan needed to know _right now!_ or something would demand his attention and pull him away. He stabbed at the panel, encouraging the hottest water he could possibly stand.

The shower was more wonderful than he could have imagined. The warm, steady onslaught of water felt amazing on his naked skin, digging into him, washing away aches, strains, and a multitude of hurts from their encounter with Grievous. The twinge in his shoulder? Gone. The blackening bruising along his ribs from having a staircase pulled down on top of him – what the _**hell**_? A _**staircase**_? – well, definitely not gone, but eased somewhat as he forced himself to let his guard down, to will the rigid set of his shoulders away.

He hadn't wasted this much water or time in a long, long while.

Obi-Wan watched the grimy water pool at his bare feet, swirling down into the drain. Maybe the war would end soon. Maybe life could resume some sense of normality. Maybe he would again be able to shower every single day and not be forced to ignore layers of caked-on dirt and mud-encrusted fingernails.

His hair was absolutely sodden and he ran his fingers through its short ginger strands, relieved yet again he had chosen to forgo the longer hair he'd worn at the beginning of the war. How Qui-Gon had managed to keep his hair so perfectly groomed in nearly every situation was completely beyond him. Obi-Wan had chopped his hair off after the first mission.

Water sluiced across his neck, tiny droplets caressing his skin as they slid down his back, releasing tension he had carried for a long, long time. He turned around tiredly and let the water dig into his chest, his belly, running rivulets that raced across his groin, his thighs, his calves and spattered onto his feet. Obi-Wan dropped his head to his chest, arms hanging loosely at his sides.

_I think I will just stay here forever. _

Near the sink, tucked safely away in his belt, Obi-Wan's comlink started chirping.

_Damn it. _

Obi-Wan flicked off the water, immediately feeling a gentle wave of drowsiness steal over him. Suddenly he was too tired to care about much of anything, remembering that he had originally come to his quarters just to sleep and had been distracted by the overwhelming lure of a hot shower. He stood still for a moment, dripping and sighing, and grabbed for his towel … which wasn't hanging neatly nearby as it always was. How odd. Obi-Wan ran his fingers through his hair, squeezing excess moisture out, and then slid his hands quickly down his arms, across his stomach, over his thighs, brushing away what water he could. He stepped out of the shower, heading for his bedroom.

Obi-Wan eyed his bed longingly as the reminder beep from his comlink chimed for his attention but in the end the temptation was just too much. Still naked, still damp, Obi-Wan climbed under the blankets, sighing as he rested his head against the softness of his pillow.

Within seconds, he was asleep.

**OoOoOoOoOo**

the end. :)

It's a little hard to write a T-rated story because I had to leave out all the naughty bits _**I**_ would have wanted to see. lol. I was thinking this wouldn't make a bad little series, though: random naked Obi-Wan moments. Mud, chocolate … _hmmm_. Any ideas?


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